


Golden and Brilliant Without Illumination

by easiIyamused



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Clinging, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, Everyone gets hugs, Fluff, Juno Steel Needs a Hug, Other, Pet Names, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved, and they gET THEM, it's just cute and sweet and literally nothing bad happens friends!!, oh my god this is so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28990959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easiIyamused/pseuds/easiIyamused
Summary: does what it says in the tags! jupeter morning fluffalt title: 'google search is it homophobic if my boss (lesbian) makes me (nb lady, bi) get up in the morning instead of cuddling with my partner (he/they, gay)'
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 15
Kudos: 128





	Golden and Brilliant Without Illumination

**Author's Note:**

> dont ask me when this takes place im literally ~stupid~ i have no idea
> 
> omg imagine me writing a fic with no tws! not even a sprinkle of bad parenting mentioned in this fanned fiction, one loves to see.

At some point, it gets to be twenty minutes past eight on a Tuesday morning. The glow of the vitamin D lamp forces its way into Juno’s good eye, denying him the remnants of sleep he had been clinging on to. This time of year on Mars is freezing yet rainless, so bitter and dry that it makes his nose and ears sting. Up on the Carte Blanche without gravity or weather, it’s always a perfectly reasonable temperature. A good thing in theory, sure, but in practice, it makes it cozier, and therefore harder to get out of bed, Juno thinks as he starts to sit up. At that moment, a soft, questioning noise sounds from the pillow next to him. A bemused smile washes over Juno’s face unbidden. And that, he thinks, shifting so he’s sitting up properly and can get a good look at the man beside him. Mostly that. 

Peter Nureyev is looking up at him with bleary brown eyes, face still half smushed into the pillow and hair sprawling all over the place. It’s starting to curl up, the way it does when he gives the straighteners a rest. The grey streak at his left temple has fanned out and blended in with the rest of the curls. Without makeup, Juno can make out a few freckles at the corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He’s so gorgeous it stings, right above Juno’s heart. Something else smarts as well- the routine of it. How Juno knows where to look, where to find those sweet little things that no one else gets to see. He reaches over, ghosts his left hand across the hair. In response, he’s granted another, more indignant sort of noise. 

“Yeah, good morning to you, too,” Juno mutters, moving his hand away. Nureyev pouts, shifts so his head is half resting in Juno’s lap, and stares up at him pointedly. Juno rolls his eye but obliges, brushing the curls away from Peter’s forehead, scratching his nails over his scalp. Nureyev smiles sleepily, shuts his eyes again and murmurs something distantly related to a morning greeting. Juno grins, “Did I wake you up?”

“Mmm. Too early. Wholly unnecessary...” Nureyev mumbles, turning slightly so the side of his face is pillowed on Juno’s thigh, “Back to sleep now, love?”

“Can’t. Reconnaissance mission, remember?” It’s Juno’s turn on the rota, Nureyev is well aware, he loves memorizing shit like that. Still, his eyes snap open, he groans like it’s the inconvenience of the century, and then he twists up so he can loop his arms around Juno’s waist, hide his face in Juno’s sleep shirt. Juno gets lost for a second, returning the hug and pressing light kisses to the scars on the sides of Nureyev’s neck, before he notices the clock in his periphery. Five minutes to nine. Fuck. 

Juno clears his throat. “Gonna’ be late if I don’t haul ass, ‘Reyev. Ease up.” Peter makes no move to, no indication that he’s even heard what Juno said. Ah. Right. He’s drifted back off. Great. Juno considers his predicament for all of thirty seconds before a vision of the shit he’ll get from Vespa if he’s late again hits him. As a compromise, Juno gently peels Nureyev’s arms off of him, lifts his head in his right hand for a moment so he can slip a pillow under it with the left, then quietly rises up off the bed. 

Juno makes short work of changing- who knew that having a partner who forces you to put your clothes in places that make sense could actually improve your quality of life- and smudges some gold-ish kajal around his eyes until he likes how it looks. He’s halfway through getting his boots on when he hears his name, the first syllable emphasized in a way that no one else does, ring out from across the room.

“Yeah?”

“You’re going?” Nureyev’s voice is quiet and heavy with sleep. Juno nods, then pads back to the bed and perches on the edge to finish lacing up. When he’s done he leans down so he can kiss the space between Peter’s eyes. Nureyev immediately makes to paw at him, take his face in his hands, kiss him properly. Juno pushes him back down, gently as he can,

“Sorry, doll. Lady’s gotta work.” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Nureyev grumbles, taking Juno’s left hand and moving it back to its place in his hair. Juno raises an eyebrow.

“What, I should just stay here and mess up your hair? Forever?”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, far too softly, far too genuinely. Juno had expected some sort of snappy retort, but no. That warm, sharp feeling returns to the space between his ribs. 

“I-” Juno’s gotta do that justice, somehow. Tough act to follow. He strokes his hand through the curls once more, for good measure, “I’d- like that, too. Back by two, okay?” He says, standing and making for the door. Nureyev makes a quiet affirmative noise, pulls the covers back over himself, rolls onto Juno’s half of the bed. His mouth is half-open, canines showing, long eyelashes fluttering open and shut as he breathes. 

Juno loves him, loves him like nothing else. 

But that’s a huge thing to say, and it’s barely nine in the morning, so he just whispers “Go back to sleep, baby”, and is very careful to ease the door shut behind him, so the crappy sliding mechanic doesn’t creak.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. thank u for reading i would love to write more and am so open to requests in the comments as i find it easier to write if someone asks me too!!!
> 
> 2\. i hope ur day was good, it snowed here yesterday! 
> 
> 3\. how we doing, juno-calls-nureyev-baby nation?? 
> 
> 4\. title from this banger and certified jupeter anthem https://genius.com/The-west-coast-pop-art-experimental-band-i-wont-hurt-you-lyrics 
> 
> 5\. lots and lots of love and kisses


End file.
